


A Lesson in Shamelessness

by fosfomifira



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Thomas' Gay Grand Tour references, happy London days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 05:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14846975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fosfomifira/pseuds/fosfomifira
Summary: James holds himself back, Thomas wishes he wouldn't. A lesson in shamelessness is required.





	A Lesson in Shamelessness

**Author's Note:**

> my everlasting thanks to [fandomfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfan/pseuds/fandomfan), best beta reader ever.

Thomas lay on his stomach, naked, his head pillowed on his forearms, his eyes almost closed. Bedsheets and covers pushed aside, the heat from the fireplace was more than enough to keep him warm. His legs spread, all of him was so very at ease, comfortable and full of pleasure down to his bones. The moment would be perfect, if not for the fact that James sat facing away from him, his back a rigid line of tension, his shoulders an arch of self loathing.

There was no need for this distance between them. Just a short while ago all barriers had come down between them until there had been no remnants of propriety left. James had finally, gloriously, let himself go and had taken Thomas with all the passion that burnt in his heart. 

Ever since they first made their most personal and intimate acquaintance, James had trouble allowing himself to believe that he was what Thomas wanted. He saw himself as society told him he should be seen: a low born navy officer whose polished exterior nonetheless barely concealed his rough, uncouth nature. James saw the darkness that had always been a part of himself and kept at arm's length, sure it would only taint Thomas if he ever came in contact with it. Ever since that first kiss, Thomas worked to make James understand he wanted him, all of him, all of James, in every way he could have him. When they kissed it was if James had finally been persuaded by the strength and truth of Thomas’ arguments, but James was a most stubborn man. He would not allow himself to fuck, let alone love, Thomas free and unrestrained by his own perceptions.

In the earlier days of their romance, only gentle touches were desired, nothing but the most tender of gestures. But passion takes many shapes and Thomas wanted to taste them all in James’ arms. He knew his tastes in bed to be wide ranging. The same might hold for James and yet Thomas could feel in James a sense of reluctance and restraint that beat hot underneath their kisses, an urge to only allow gentleness to come to the surface. 

When faced with this dilemma Thomas acted in the manner of an explorer, carefully charting the truest, most pleasurable course to James’ happiness, so well hidden from James himself. From what few stories James shared, those scattered words shared at their most intimate of moments, Thomas was certain that James’ past experiences were those of a man who hid from his own heart whilst allowing himself -on very rare occasions- to take what his body desired. To free James’ heart and the wildness within to live as a man attuned to all of his needs and wants called for a subtle touch and the greatest of skill, but oh, what priceless treasure would be found at the end of that road.

That there was no need for James to be gentle and delicate if the mood didn't call for it. That there was no need for James to hold himself back because Thomas wasn't used to so rough a treatment when, on occasion, Thomas craved that manner of unrestrained touch. All such requests and many more had fallen on deaf ears until last night. 

In the safety of his study Thomas had teased and teased for days with words. When words failed to persuade James, Thomas turned to action. Tonight, he had worn his breeches indecently tight, walked around in his shirtsleeves, his waistcoat unbuttoned down to his chest the way James had told him he found so appealing; his neckcloth barely covered his throat, leaving sensitive skin defenceless to any attentions James might bestow upon him. To no avail. James remained stubbornly focused on the the myriad tasks required by their Nassau project. When such gestures failed to entice the response Thomas so longed for, he knew it was time to abandon any attempt at subtlety and kissed his sailor love, rubbing himself against James shamelessly. 

“You will stay the night, won’t you? It's so very late and I think it might snow. I wouldn't want you to catch a cold racing across town only to find yourself locked out of your room. And I do so want you to take me, James.”

A small smile bloomed on James’ face. The sheer openness of Thomas’ desire never failed to overwhelm the more restrained, reluctant parts of him. 

Thomas walked into his bedchamber followed by a silent, bewitched James. Once he locked the door, Thomas set out to light every lamp and candle in his room. 

“Do sit down, love,” Thomas said, leading James to his favourite chair, now placed right in front of the bed. 

Thomas stripped off his clothes, his body on full display. He touched himself, hand on his cock for James, making his desire unmistakably known. He'd drawn back the covers when he prepared himself for the night. His plan was only halfway through. 

Thomas knelt on the bed, on hands and knees facing the headboard, his legs spread just so. Shameless in the way only he knew how to be, he leant down, his body weight supported by his shoulders and slowly, slowly spread himself with his hands for James to see, his earlier preparations made clear. 

He hoped he made an enticing spectacle, glistening with oil, so very eager to be taken by James. Where Thomas suspected James might secretly thrill at the shame he felt in this position, Thomas revelled in his own lack of shame, on the effect he had on James. He could feel himself open, clenching against nothing, his body as impatient to be filled by James as his heart. 

“Jesus fuck, Thomas.”

James, oh, James didn't disappoint, his voice a low growl, nothing polite or polished about it. The silence in the room was only broken by the sounds of James undressing, of him kneeling on the bed behind Thomas, his calloused hands on top on Thomas’ cosseted ones, spreading Thomas even wider apart, then pushing them aside, giving Thomas only a moment to support himself. James fingered him open with very little care to his comfort, quick gestures to test the openness of his body and nothing more.

Thomas had never been ashamed to beg and plead in bed. He relished in it, if his partners were good enough to entice such a response. “Please, oh please,” he sighed. 

James gave in. He simply ran his cock along the crack of Thomas’ arse to get some oil on it, then pushed in with all his strength, the most gloriously unrestrained penetration, deep and hard and desperate with his desire, as if he couldn't reach deep enough inside Thomas’ body, barely resisting that most thrilling burn. 

The rhythm was merciless: a strong, wild pounding that almost robbed Thomas of his breath, James’ deliciously thick cock stretching him in the way he loved the most, the pace almost too intense to be matched, but Thomas fucked himself back, eager to take all that James had to give, losing himself to the moment.

They'd been fucking in an animal kind of silence, allowing their bodies speak for them, their mouths silent since the moment they touched. And yet, James seemed to gather his wits. “What games you play with me, my lord,” he murmured, panting. Thomas looked back to face him and saw a confused, hurt look on James’ face. He stopped James’ thrusts, had him pull away and then rolled over to kneel in front of him. “Not a game, James. I'd never toy with you.”

What an expression on James’ face before Thomas kissed him, seemingly undone by Thomas words. Miranda called him earnest, and it was his nature. When it came to matters of the heart, he knew no other way to be. “I love you, James. All of you.”

Thomas held James' face, framing it with his hands before kissing him, his heart fully open. James kissed him back, desperately and hungry for it. “There's no part of you I do not wish to know,” Thomas whispered.

James closed his eyes, overcome with emotion. When he opened them again, his eyes were full of understanding, dark with wanting. His voice was low and gravelly. “Bend over, my lord.”

Thomas shuddered with delight, turning over to offer himself to James once again. His head was pillowed on his forearms, legs spread wide, hips held up high, all of him open to James. James pushed back in with his fingers, adding more oil. 

When he fucked back into Thomas it was with the deep, slow, so very thorough thrusts James himself favoured. So deep and full until it was as if there was not a part of him empty of James. Slowly, purposefully, James let himself go, his rhythm that of his wild beating heart. If only Thomas could see – oh, to have a mirror mounted on the ceiling and another on the headboard, the better to see how James’ hair came loose from his queue, how the powerful muscles of his arms and shoulders strained with the effort of pulling Thomas’ hips back to him, his chest so magnificently broad, his cock spreading Thomas wide open. 

Thomas fucked himself back, relishing in all James' strength and fire, the hardness and the rough edges and a heart bigger than the sea. The sharp bites and tender kisses to his shoulders and neck, the rough hands on his hips and the words whispered in his ear of need, of hunger, of love, growing wilder and free, unchained of himself. It was so good Thomas never wanted it to end, but his body demanded to come.

“Touch me James, please”. And James, heart of his heart, touched him. He pulled on his cock as he fucked him, until neither of them could take it any more and all sense of rhythm was lost. The thrusts came rougher, faster, James’ hand on his cock determined and knowing. “Come, Thomas, just fucking come already,” James demanded of him and Thomas gave in, closing his eyes to the pleasure James gave him, felt himself coming hot and wet on James’ hand, for once reaching his climax in near silence.

James simply collapsed onto him, his hips moving out of sheer instinct, the last few thrusts utterly artless, all of him shuddering as he came deep inside Thomas with a broken groan. 

*  


And now here they were, breath and sense returned. Thomas wanted nothing but to glory in the aftermath of their pleasure, only James sat stiffly away from him, his thoughts all too easy for Thomas to read.

“Come closer, James, please,” Thomas said. James moved in silence, his fingertips light on Thomas' back, a remorseful caress.

“I hurt you,” James said, as he knelt between Thomas’ spread thighs, his fingers gently spreading his buttocks. 

“Never, James. Not in a thousand years could you hurt me.”

“But you, your … It looks sore.” James said, a blush of self recrimination on his cheeks. 

Thomas smiled. Yes, his arse was sore, but not unbearably so. He clenched lightly against the gentle finger that touched the outside of his opening. “Just sore enough to remind me that I received what I begged of you, James.” 

Thomas rolled onto his side. “I asked for what I knew I could take, for what I wanted you to give. Was I wrong? Did I ask for too much?”

James shook his head. “No, I can't deny I very much wanted it, how much I enjoyed taking you that way. But you deserve better, Thomas. You deserve kindness.”

Thomas’ heart broke to think of just why James might equate rough passion with a lack of care. “But I received kindness, James. All of the kindness and love of your passion, which is as dear to me as when you are careful and gentle with me. If I'd asked you to stop, you would have done so -”

“In a heartbeat.”

“And I knew that when I asked for this. I knew then, as I've always known, that there's no hurting between us. A rough touch does not have to equal a lack of love, James, not when I know your heart as well as I do.”

James sighed. Tenderness had been Thomas’ initial gift and it had rocked James to his very core. Now, to think that all of his darkness and wildness could also have a place in Thomas’ heart was another gift beyond measure. He knew James believed certain parts of him should never come to the light. It was Thomas' calling to prove him wrong.

Thomas allowed James his silence. Both of them lay on their sides exchanging gentle, unhurried kisses, as if they might fall asleep for the night, allowing their bodies to cool. Then, 

“How did you open yourself so thoroughly, hmm? How many fingers did you use, my lord?”

Thomas smiled, full of mischief. “Let me show you.”

He got out of bed despite James’ protest, and made his way to the large cabinet across the room. He fiddled with a key, pressed a hidden button and then a secret compartment opened, then another to reveal a rather ornate lacquered box. From it he extracted a dildo, smooth and glistening. 

“A treasured reminder of my Grand Tour. Not enough to satisfy me as I need –for that I have other toys —,” Thomas said with a leer, “but very useful to make myself ready for you. It’s been quite some time since I had the pleasure of enjoying a man as deliciously endowed as you.”

“Show me, Thomas. Show me everything,” James said, his voice as husky and full of desire as it had ever been. He made himself at home on the chair Thomas had so generously provided. James sat with his legs spread wide, one hand lightly touching his growing hardness, all of him open for Thomas to look and to love. “I want to see it all.”

Their night had just begun.

**Author's Note:**

> [This](https://selfconsciousfangirl.tumblr.com/) is my tumblr and I hope the link will work this time.


End file.
